


Stella vs. The Winchesters

by StellaKingsbury



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arachne - Freeform, Gen, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaKingsbury/pseuds/StellaKingsbury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after John Winchester's death, Sam and Dean receive a call for help on John's phone. It's Stella; a woman they have never heard of or seen before, who claims to be an old acquaintance of their father’s. This series of short stories is an account of the adventures the trio have while fighting the forces of evil and supernatural within their universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam and Dean meet Stella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters meet Stella for the first time when they receive a call from her, six months after John Winchester’s death. She needs their help on a case, but as the trio work together, the Winchesters become increasingly suspicious of this unassuming woman and her unusual approach to hunting. Can she be trusted?

It was in the cool dusk of the evening that they received the call. Dean, after driving practically all day, sighed in relief when the sign for Jackson, Tennessee shone up ahead in the beam of the Impala’s lights. Sam looked out of his window at the passing trees and stretched as the edge of town drew nearer. Just as they passed the sign, a ringtone joined the Metallica tape in the cassette player, filling the cabin with a piercing noise.  
Neither of them moved.  
“Is that you’re phone?” They asked each other at the same time.  
“Oh wait, it’s Dad’s!” Dean realised.  
Sam reached into the glove compartment, pulled it out and held it to his ear.  
“Hello?”  
“Hello? John?” Came a voice from the other end of the line.  
“Sorry, John’s not here right now. Who is this?”  
“Who’s _this _?” She countered.__  
“Yes, that’s what I asked.”  
She laughed, then said:  
“Okay kid, it’s Stella here. Now put John on the phone: the adults need to talk!”  
“Look, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but John died about six months ago.” Here, he paused so that it could sink in. “My name is Sam, John’s son. Were you calling to ask for help for a job?”  
“Oh, right... Well... sorry, I just... didn’t know, you know...” She sighed and continued: “Well, hi Sam. And you’re right I do have a job; I was hoping John might’ve been there to help me with it, but, of course...”  
“Where are you? We might be able to help you.”  
“‘We?’ You mean you and Dean?”  
“Yeah, we’re in Tennessee. Where are you?”  
“I’m in Livingston, Montana.”  
“We could be there in about four days?” Sam said, turning to Dean to check, who nodded.  
“Ok then, how about the Diner in Main Street. Five pm?”  
“Sure, sounds good. See you then.”  
“Alright, bye Sam. Bye Dean!”

The brothers sat opposite each other in the booth, so that they could see each exit.  
“So who did this woman say she was again?” Dean asked gruffly as he turned over the menu in his hands.  
“I don’t know. She asked for Dad, right? I mean, technically she did call his cell. So she must be someone he worked a case with.”  
“Yeah, well,” Dean began cynically, “I don’t like it when random people call Dad’s cell looking for help. It just means more work for us!” He looked at his watch impatiently. “And where is she, man? I’m starving! She’s late. She said five; it’s five-fifteen!”  
“Dean, go ahead and order. If she’s not here now, she can order later.” Sam said tiredly.  
Two minutes after the waitress left with their order, Sam saw a woman enter the diner. She was, (and there was really no other way to say this), beautiful. She had a heart-shaped, pointed face, with beautiful blue eyes scanning the diner under two jet black eyebrows, which matched her mass of hair, intricately woven into a braid that went past her shoulders. She wore a black leather jacket, sapphire blue shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans that were half-hidden by her knee-high tan boots.  
As Sam looked at her, she in turn zeroed-in on the back of Dean’s jacket and then Sam. She smiled and made her way over to their booth.  
“Dean, I think this is her.” Sam said quietly.  
Just as Dean turned to look, she drew level with their table and smiled at them both.  
“I’d know that tattered old jacket anywhere.” She said, nodding to Dean. “Hi, boys. I’m Stella.” She looked from one to the other.  
“I’m Sam,” he said politely. “This is Dean.”  
“Pleasure.” She countered, and then waved at Sam to move over. “Shove, Love!”  
Sam hastily jumped over, further into the booth as she sat in his old seat.  
“So,” began Dean, getting right into it, looking her over with a suspicious eye. “How did you know our Dad?”  
“I worked with him a couple of times. Nothing special.” She shrugged.  
At this moment the waitress came back over and asked Stella what she wanted.  
“A serve of fries, please!” she said eagerly. “And also an iced tea! Thanks!”  
“What were you hunting?” Dean continued once the waitress had disappeared again.  
“I have long since forgotten their names. I’m not really a hunter; not like you guys, anyway. I wasn’t raised in the life. But in my travels, if I see something that can’t be explained or seems overly suspicious, I call John and he usually turns up and helps me kill it.”  
“And, something has come up again?” Sam observed.  
“Yeah. Nothing too extreme. But... of course John can’t help me this time, can he?” She added sadly.  
“No.”  
“What happened?” She asked, looking from one to the other. “The last time he called me he was working on something big.”  
“Demons?” Dean suggested.  
“Yeah, that was it. He wondered if I knew anything that might be able to help, but sadly I had nothing.”  
“When was this?” Sam asked.  
“I don’t know, short of a year ago, or something like that.”  
“And you didn’t think you could help by working with him?” Dean interjected.  
At this she chuckled.  
“No! Stubborn bastard he was. Wouldn’t accept my help anyway; and I did offer.” She said pointedly at Dean.  
“So, what are you working on now?” Sam asked.  
“Local disappearances in town- I’m thinking Aracnidia.” She said, pulling a yellow envelope from her pocket and showing it to the boys.  
“You mean an Arachne.” Sam corrected.  
“Yeah... Anyway; that’s why I’m late. I’ve just been casing out the ‘nest’. We can head right over there after tea.” She looked towards the kitchen to see if their meals were ready yet.  
Dean turned to Sam and mouthed the word ‘tea?’ under his breath, raising his eyebrows. 

 

Later that night, they were huddled in the trees near a ramshackle old house on the outskirts of town. In the semi-darkness, Stella looked sideways at Sam and Dean.  
“Okay, so Dean and I will go around the back and Sam will take the front. You two got your swords?”  
Dean grunted and Sam nodded.  
“Alright- let’s go!  
“Wait, wait, wait! How do we know they’re in there?” Dean said sceptically.  
“Of course they’re in there.” Stella dismissed. She was about to say, ‘I can see them,’ when she realised the boys didn’t know about her, and mentally kicked them both. “I was here earlier, I know this is the place Dean!”  
“Fine!” He whispered back, not convinced at all.  
Stealthily the trio crept out of the scrub on the side of the dirt road then split up; Sam paused at the door and waited while Dean and Stella snuck around the side of the house. At the back door a moment later, Dean and Stella heard Sam pound on the front door:  
“Hello? Anyone home? My car broke down a half a mile off the interstate...”  
Dean tried the doorknob and found it locked. Stella crept up to the window near the door and peered in to see if anyone would see them coming in. The filthy back room was unoccupied and she saw no-one appear as Dean’s efforts to break in began to cause some noise. She mentally kicked herself for not unlocking it before Dean ever touched it. Finally she heard the lock click and they both slunk into the dilapidated house.  
They were in the back room, from which they could see into the hallway on one side of the house. The entire place was lit from the inside, which Stella thought was an ominous sign. There was a thick layer of dust on the uneven floorboards, but several sets of dragging footsteps made criss-cross patterns all around the room, suggesting someone had been here recently. The room was mostly empty, with only a pair of rotting armchairs upturned in two corners and a large wardrobe across the room from them. Stella motioned to Dean that she was going to check it out.  
It occurred to her that she had to physically go over and pretend to check that it was clear, instead of just looking through it as usual. The boys not knowing about her powers was going to be a real disadvantage. She would have to do things by hand for now and that would make her slow. Maybe she should have told them before they got to the house, although, that would have just been a waste of time. They probably would have tried to kill her then and there.  
Stella shook her head to bring herself back to the task at hand and as she crossed the room, she noticed that the hinges on the wardrobe’s doors were old and rusty. She managed to silence them before gently opening one of the doors. Deliberately human, she cautiously looked inside and opened both doors up fully to show Dean it was all clear.  
_What a waste of time _, Stella thought.__  
It was then she noticed that a large mass of webbing had been spun and plastered on the back wall. Her mouth curled down in distaste as she thought of being stuck helpless in it and made a mental note to avoid touching the walls at all costs.  
Dean had moved to the door leading to the hallway, from where they could hear Sam rustling about at the front of the house.  
They were halfway down the hall when they heard Sam cry out. Dean ran ahead and kicked open the door leading to the front room, while Stella looked into the middle rooms that they went past. Surprisingly they were empty and she frowned before turning her attention back to Sam.  
He was cornered by two Arachne and was only just managing to keep them at bay. Dean charged forward and engaged one of them, but as he did so, down from the ceiling dropped another and attacked him from behind.  
_Of course _, Stella thought. _They’re hiding in the bloody ceiling! _They must have hidden themselves there when they had first heard Dean trying to unlock the back door.____  
She stepped forward and decapitated the Arachne attacking Dean, before looking up into the roof, which was partially visible from the few wide holes where the ceiling had fallen in, in places, and with her power she looked back at the rest of the house. The Arachne, now that the element of surprise had been used up, were now coming out of the woodwork, eight in all, down from the attic-space and out from under loose floorboards in other rooms.  
It was stupid of her not to check there, she realised as she activated the wards around the house that she had placed earlier that day. Now they were all trapped inside and it would simply be a fight to the death to see who would be standing at the end of it.  
The front room was the largest, so once the boys had killed the two attacking Sam, the trio turned to face the rest of them rushing in from the hallway and the ceiling.  
“Don’t let them push you too far back!” Stella reminded them, looking at the web-covered walls surrounding them on each side.  
The next few minutes were a terrifying and desperate fight. As well as fighting most of them at once, one Arachne spun web on the floorboards under them to stick their feet in place. Stella saw this first and drew her throwing knife from its sheath beneath her jacket and hurled it across the room to land directly in the creature’s throat. She concentrated again on the two other Arachne she was fighting as his wet scream of outrage rang around the room.  
Dean pushed forward and managed to get one in the centre of the room, before the monster disarmed him and lunged forward, gripping him by the shirt and throwing him behind him, across the room to land horizontally in the middle of the wall, stuck there by the webbing.  
“Dean!” Sam yelled, furiously hacking at the arms of his two Arachne, and finally decapitating one. Sam was still trapped in the corner with the other and Dean’s arms were pinioned helplessly against the webbing on the wall, forcing Stella to change tactics. She tripped her remaining monster and charged across the room, raising her sword just in time to stop the Arachne killing Dean, sending its blood in an ugly arc across the wall and partially across Dean’s chest.  
She turned back again to face the one she had tripped and only just raised her sword in time to defend herself. Sam forced his last Arachne back a few feet and finally cut off its head, which bounced and rolled out the front door, which had been flung off its hinges in the battle, and came to a halt on the front porch.  
Stella’s Arachne, realising that it was the last one, forced her back a foot, knocked the sword out of her hands, and pushed down her against the wall, sticking her there a little way away from Dean. The creature turned and, dodging Sam’s swipe, made a break for the window on the other side of the room.  
The monster made it two inches out of the house before it hit the ward Stella had put there and rebounded back into the centre of the floor. The window smashed and glass was everywhere as the thing scrambled to find its feet again and figure out what had happened. The two boys were speechless before Sam came to his senses and attacked the creature again.  
Stella furiously tried to unstick herself from the wall, digging her feet into the floorboards, making scuff-marks everywhere, pulling at the webbing. She was sitting on the ground with her back and left arm and part of her braid stuck to the wall. Her eyes watered every time she tried to get free. She blinked to clear her vision and with her one free arm, she pulled at the shoulder of her jacket to start slowly peeling it off the stubborn web. Dean was making equally furious attempts to free himself, but both his arms were useless and he looked exactly like a helpless fly stuck in a spider’s web.  
By now Sam and the last monster had moved back a little, so that Sam was almost trapped in the corner across from Stella. In the scuffle, the shards of glass had been kicked all over the room and a few were close to Stella. She tried to reach them with her feet, unsure of what good they might do, unless she got hold of one and stabbed the creature by hand if it got close enough after it had finished with Sam.  
_That would be too late! _She thought desperately, and realising that she couldn’t reach them anyway, she turned her attention back to Sam.__  
He was really trapped in the corner now and getting dangerously close to the webbing. Stella turned her head as far to the right as possible and saw her sword lying too far away down the hall to reach. She huffed impatiently. This was getting ridiculous now.  
Sam’s movements were getting slower and slower and the Arachne knew it, until finally Sam was disarmed as well. The pit of her stomach sunk away as Stella realised what she had to do now. She concentrated on the biggest shard of glass between her and Sam that she could see and levitated it, making it spin as fast as an electric drill. It made a low humming noise as it churned the air around it, before she sent it hurtling across the room to the monster’s throat, cutting the head clean off with a wet ripping sound. As soon as the spider-monster’s body hit the floor, the glass slowed and Stella let go of it and it fell, sticking up out of the floorboards beneath the window.  
For a few moments, the only sounds in the whole house were those of them all panting with exhaustion. Stella looked at Sam and knew all he wanted to do was drop to his knees, but he just stood there blinking at Stella.  
“You know, I think we underestimated the number of people we would need for this job.” Stella attempted light-heartedly before Dean came back to his senses and called Sam over for help.  
“Wait, Sam!” she panted, pointing to the Arachne with her throwing knife still sticking partially out of its neck. “Make sure that one is a hundred percent dead; it could be faking!”  
After a moment of thought, he nodded and weaved his way between the bodies on the floor, picked up his dropped sword and walked over to where the creature lay, in the corner across from him. With a clean swipe, the last head hit the floor and Stella’s knife landed next to it, before Sam picked it up and used it to start hacking away at the webbing around Dean.  
Stella knew that he would free Dean first. The next few minutes were going to be particularly dangerous for her; if she couldn’t convince them of her good intentions they would certainly decide to kill her. Not that they would succeed, but still; she wanted them on her side, as John had been. Therefore, while Dean was slowly being freed, she innocently tried to work her jacket from the webbing by hand, and accepted that she might just have to cut the last few inches of her hair off. She could easily grow it back in five seconds.  
Finally, when Dean was free, the two boys looked down at her with serious looks on their faces.  
“What the Hell was that?” Dean demanded venomously.  
“You’re welcome.” She replied.  
“Excuse me?”  
“You’re welcome. I saved your life and Sam’s life and I stopped the last one from getting away by putting a ward around the house. Or did you really want to search the forest for weeks trying to find it again?”  
“A ward?” Sam asked.  
“It means a shield.” She replied shortly.  
Dean squatted down to her eye-level and placed the edge of his sword gently on her neck to silence her.  
“What are you?” He asked with contempt.  
“Half-human.”  
“And the other half?”  
She smiled.  
“Listen very carefully. I am a sorceress. Not a witch; a sorceress. I don’t pray to anyone for my power; it comes from me. I was born like this. I met your father fifteen years ago and quite similarly to today, I saved his life and he let me live. Ever since then, whenever either of us needed help on a job, we would call each other and help each other out.”  
“Dad never told us about you.” Dean countered.  
“Of course not. He was very considerate of my safety. Other hunters wouldn’t be as understanding and think I was inhuman and wrong just because I could do things they couldn’t.” Here she paused to look around the room and then continued: “Frankly, if I thought you boys weren’t going to threaten me, I would have told you about myself before we set foot in this house and things would have been so much easier.”  
“Dean, let her go. If she was really out to kill us, she would have done it by now.” Sam argued.  
“Or, she’s waiting until she’s free to attack us.”  
“If I really wanted to kill you, Dean, I could stop your heart from here and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. But I don’t want to. You’re good hunters and good men. I want to be allies, like I was with your father. We don’t need to fight.”  
Dean thought about it for a minute, still not taking his eyes off her, until finally he took away his sword and stood up. There was another beat before he walked over to the centre of the room and stood there watching her quietly with Sam.  
She carefully unzipped her jacket and slid her arms out from the sleeves. She could only get so far because the end of her braid was still stuck to the webbing. Slowly, (so that she wouldn’t spook the boys), she summoned her sword over from the hallway, it slid across the filthy wooden floor and in one quick motion she cut through the dark tress to free herself. The jacket still hung loosely from the wall and she deliberately turned her back to the Winchesters to start peeling it off once more. Her immediate concern was to not appear threatening and make them change their minds about sparing her.  
She glanced at the pathetic tuft of her hair still stuck to the wall and realised that they would definitely have to burn the place down.  
“We’re going to have to torch the place to get rid of all this.” She began conversationally when her jacket gave a little.  
“Hmm,” Sam agreed. “Are you going to do the honours?”  
“Yeah, there are a few things I can do. I’ll have to take the wards down first, to make sure it doesn’t explode-”  
“Alright, well; while you two have a pleasant conversation,” Dean interrupted, making for the hallway. “I’m going to check the house to see if any more creepy bastards have hidden themselves somewhere.”  
“You won’t find any more.” She said, but shuffled out of his way nonetheless. He kept walking as if he had not heard her.  
“You’re sure?” Sam asked.  
She took a breath and focussed her eyes on the rest of the house. She looked in Dean’s direction, looked past the cobwebs and wooden panels of each wall and saw nothing but old electrical wiring, broken glass and pottery and Dean’s skeleton. She turned her head to look up into the ceiling and saw the rafters and rusted iron of the roof. She swivelled her head the other way and looked beneath the front porch and under all the floorboards. Nothing but dirt.  
“I’m sure.” She answered him simply.  
With a final tug, her jacket came free from the wall and she stood up carefully, shaking dust off it. Now that Stella had her jacket back, she could put her sword away. She pulled her jacket on over her shoulders, then bent down to pick up her sword from the floor where she had left it. Wiping most of the blood off on her jeans, she swung the sword up over her shoulder and it disappeared into its sheath. When she took her hand away, there wasn’t any clue that it was there at all.  
It was only then that she looked back at Sam. He stood there gaping at her slightly until she asked:  
“What?”  
“Nothing, it’s just… your hair is sort of…”  
She sent her fingers to her head to investigate and then realised that by cutting off the end of her braid, the rest of it was slowly unravelling. She frowned and took it all out completely and tied it back up into a simple pony tail. She could fix it properly later.  
At this moment Dean returned from the back of the house and motioned for Sam to leave through the front door. Sam turned to go and then realised that he was still holding Stella’s knife. He wiped both sides on his jeans before he handed it back to her. She accepted it and smiled, sliding it back into its own sheath under her jacket as he walked out the front door.  
“Wait a minute, if you’re going outside I have to pull the wards down first!” Stella explained patiently. She inclined her head slightly as she concentrated on the spell, then once it was done she straightened and made her way to the door.  
Dean stepped in her way. He had not taken his eyes off her since he came back into the room.  
“Letting you live doesn’t mean that we trust you.” He began quietly.  
“You don’t have to. Not for now, anyway. It might take some time, but it will happen.” She smiled gently at him. “You have my number now, anyway; feel free to call me if you need help on a case. But we still have to finish this one first, so unless you feel like burning to a crisp, we’d better get out of here.”  
Dean, thinking that she meant she had started a countdown, turned and ran out of the house, grabbed Sam, ran down the porch steps and stopped twenty feet away before he turned to look at her again.  
“I wasn’t about to blow up the house, you fool!” She called, chuckling to herself. Then she turned and, raising her hands, she threw a clear, vapour-like substance around the base of the house from the tips of her fingers. She walked around the whole house before cutting off the supply and going over to join the boys a safe distance away. She snapped her fingers and sent sparks through the open door.


	2. Castiel meets Stella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After fighting the first Horseman, War, in "Good God, Y'all," the second episode of the fifth season, the boys call upon Castiel to help them track War down again to question him further about Lucifer's master plan. One of the few times that Castiel is stumped, Dean calls Stella for help. What he didn't imagine was how Cass and Stella would react when they met for the first time...

“So what have we got?” Dean said pacing the small hotel room irritably. “We’ve got no idea where he is, no way of finding him and no idea what to do now!”  
“Dean, he is hidden; he has gone somewhere cloaked in Enochian symbols. I cannot trace him.” Castiel replied gruffly. “As an angel I can only do so much.”  
At this Dean paused and looked at Castiel, then at Sam.  
“You’re right. We need help from someone who can track down anyone! No matter where they are.”  
Sam cocked his head to one side.  
“You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you? Not her!”  
“Why not?” said Dean, whipping out his cell. “She owes us one!”  
“Who is it?” Castiel asked.  
“Family friend. She’ll help us, for sure!” Dean replied, putting his cell to his ear.  
“A family friend of yours that I don’t know about?” Castiel asked, casting a puzzled look at Sam.  
On the third ring she answered.  
_“Hello?” ___  
“Hey Stella, how’s it going?”  
_“Um, Ok I guess.” ___  
“Great! You wouldn’t mind giving us a hand on a case, would you?”  
_“What do you need my help for this time?” ___  
“Not much; we just need to track someone down.”  
_“Yeah, right! Every time you say those words, it means I get caught up in the case anyway.” ___  
“Well, only if you’re not busy.” Dean said sweetly.  
After a short pause she replied;  
_“Where are you?” ___  
“Duncan, Oklahoma; the Red Motel. Room 203.”  
_“Ok- I’ll be right there!” ___  
“Right, see you.”  
By the time Dean put his cell back in his pocket, he looked up to see a shower of blue sparks erupt in the corner near the door. When they had all fallen to the floor and vanished, there stood a beautiful woman with jet black hair down past her shoulders, knee-high black boots, jeans and an electric blue leather jacket.  
Before she could even get out the words ‘Hello boys,’ she threw up her arm to shield her eyes from the blinding white light that was coming from the other side of the room.  
“My God! What in the Hell is that?” she gasped, blinking her eyes furiously so she could see.  
“Stella, what’s the matter?” Sam asked, walking over to her.  
“It’s too bright!” She cried, turning away to focus on the bottom of the door.  
“What are you talking about, Stella?” Dean asked.  
“She can see my true form, despite my vessel.” Castiel explained, casting a suspicious eye over her.  
By this time, Stella had dimmed most of her Sight and was able to look around the room without going blind. She blinked once more and fixed her eyes on Castiel.  
“An angel? Are you kidding me?” She demanded, straightening and turning back to face him.  
“Yeah, this is our buddy Castiel!” Dean said, slapping him on the shoulder, trying to diffuse the tension between the two of them.  
“ _The _Castiel?” She hesitantly took a step forward and looked at him up and down. “No kidding! He’s powerful enough to punch a hole through the galaxy! I didn’t know you boys kept such interesting company these days!”__  
“And I didn’t know you two knew such a creature.” Castiel countered, not taking his eyes off her. “When did you even meet this witch?”  
Stella was in the middle of taking another step towards him, when she stopped at this last remark and fury rose and blazed in her eyes. Sam and Dean both gasped and Dean mumbled;  
“Cass, I’d take that back if I were you!”  
“What did you just call me?” Stella whispered.  
Castiel looked at her with contempt.  
“A witch.”  
She took a breath to compose herself.  
“I am not a witch. Witches are brutal and primitive. They are degenerates; they rely on others to give them their power! They are one of the lowest forms of spell caster... one of the lowest forms of creature!”  
Here she took another few steps towards Castiel, so that she was standing directly in front of him.  
“I am a sorceress. Magic runs in my blood, in my family, and it is my own. Most importantly I use my power to help others; to heal and to ease pain. It is the greatest insult to call me a witch, so if you ever do it again, be prepared for a fight, because this was your first and only warning. Understood?”  
“Don’t you dare threaten me, you ungodly creature!” Castiel growled.  
“Ungodly!” She laughed. “How do you know that my gift doesn’t come from _Him _? How do you know _for sure _that God didn’t give me this power?”____  
“Because you just said that it is in your family; it runs in your vile blood!”  
“And who were the first sorcerers? Do you even know about them? I do! Who’s to say that God didn’t give them their power like He gave Adam and Eve power over the world?”  
At this, Castiel reached out and gripped Stella by the shoulders. The Winchesters started.  
“Do not think to tell me about _my _Father and His creation.” He whispered, looking into her eyes with the same fury as she was looking into his.__  
After another moment’s pause Stella said:  
“Dean, why am I here?”  
Dean stepped forward and tugged Castiel’s shoulder.  
“Cass, come on…”  
Another second, two, passed and then he released her, but his gaze remained fixed on her at all times.  
“Stella, we need you to help us find someone.” Dean began.  
“I heard that part! Do you have a specimen ready?” She snapped.  
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring which was caked with crimson blood upon the surface, stored in a plastic sandwich bag.  
“Always come prepared.” Dean grinned at her.  
Stella held out her hand for it and he dropped it into her palm. She gazed at the ring for a moment, before walking towards the mirror hanging on the wall behind Sam.  
“Blood. My favourite.” She said, conspiratorially casting a glance at Castiel standing quietly where he was before.  
She reached up and touched her fingers to the edge of the mirror, thinking closely of the bloody ring in her hand and worked the spell. Sam and Dean gathered closer as they saw in the mirror the room they were standing in. Suddenly the image spun and twisted so fast that they could only just make out the viewpoint winding its way out across the parking lot outside, across the road, past houses, over creeks, over miles of land, forests and buildings, until suddenly it stopped and fixed upon an old timber mill buried deep in the wilderness, two states over.  
“There! Whoever it is, is in there.” Stella said shortly, lowering her hand, tossing the ring back to Dean and making for the door. “See you next time boys.”  
“Cass, you got it?” Sam asked.  
“Yes. The Blackpine Timber Mill. Let’s go.” He replied, happy to be leaving her behind. He stepped forward and reached out to touch their foreheads.  
“Wait!” Stella suddenly said. She was paused mid-step, a foot from the door. She turned and looked at Castiel again before she walked towards him.  
When she began rolling up her right sleeve, Dean got worried and said:  
“Hey Stella, there’s no need to-”  
“It’s alright Dean. I just want to show him something.”  
She stopped standing before Castiel again. She reached out her hand, wrist up so that he could see the black ink scripted across there. Standing out ebony on her alabaster skin were the characters: _Rs 8:37-39 _.__  
“Castiel, would you like to make an educated guess as to what this is?” She asked quietly. He glanced down at it.  
“A tattoo?” He replied.  
She took a moment to calm herself before she continued:  
“Yes. And what do you think it means?” She demanded, looking into his blue-green eyes.  
“Scripture.” He whispered, and then quoted; “ _Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. _”__  
“Exactly. I have my faith as you do yours. So, do not think me so ungodly.”  
She paused again before turning one final time and vanishing in a shower of sapphire light.


End file.
